


Little Red Roses

by modillian



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Frottage, Porn, Porn Battle, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-26
Updated: 2010-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modillian/pseuds/modillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey is very pretty, even sleep-deprived or half-drunk, whatever, but Vicky knows how to make him prettier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Red Roses

**Author's Note:**

> First it was just a fic with weird sex, and then it got weirder. I don't know exactly how to warn for it, but we can just say Vicky has very Not Nice intentions even though they don't play out in this fic.
> 
> Written for [Porn Battle X](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/30726.html?thread=4332550#cmt4332550), because gala-apples [said](http://modillian.livejournal.com/735016.html?thread=1866280#t1866280) "man up and write a ficlet!" And then I did.

 

 

Mikey looks like he's fucking burning up. Little red roses high on his cheeks, then tilting sideways and heaving over the deck. A champ. What a champ.

So Vicky thinks. She's heard good things about him when he's not throwing up liquor. Things from Marianne and Rhi, Nate and Patrick. Later on in the night, early morning, he speaks slowly to her but there's something sharp and glittering around the ends of his words. She's intrigued. Plus she's got her tits pushed up to her chin and she can feel the breeze on the crotch of her panties, so there's no way she won't get what she wants before dawn breaks up the party.

Vicky shoots some more tequila and Gabe kisses her fondly on the cheek. She's not as drunk as she was earlier, and she's hornier than she ought to be on the wrong way down a drunk night.

And then there is a Mikeyway in the corner of the couch across from her, blinking into space. Patrick is land-of-nodding, chin on his chest next to Mikey, and Gabe's hogging the rest of the bench, absorbed in his phone, undoubtedly sexting a girl he was sweet-talking earlier in the party. He'll probably roll up to the girl's place at noon and fuck her all afternoon, because Gabe is contrary like that. It makes Vicky smile.

All the same, Mikey is very pretty, even sleep-deprived or half-drunk, whatever, but Vicky knows how to make him prettier. He can see her plainly across the room, everyone else wandering or sapped out on flat surfaces. She's sitting on the barrel bar stool facing him, and Vicky catches his eye by slowly opening her legs. Her skirt is barely there and she rocks back on her ass, presents herself, rubs slowly up and down, up and down with one finger, making sure his attention is glued to her. She's been fucking getting wetter at the bar already and might as well make him watch. Mikey stands up, moving languidly, and doesn't take his sloe-gin-slow stare off of her. Just how she likes it.

Gabe is definitely watching too and grinning dirtily at her, but fuck him, this isn't his show. She gets off the stool without hitching down her skirt, digs out the spare key from her cleavage where she'd stashed it, and opens the bedroom door she made sure was kept all for herself. Fuck yeah, she's ready to test out Mikey Way and his mouth and those rumors.

Vicky hears the thump-thump of shoes on the floor behind her, the door clicking shut, and she slides out of her heels without turning around. She climbs on the bed and beckons.

The bluish light makes him look paler, unhealthy. "Not sober," Mikey says.

"Whatever," she says. "I want your mouth."

He grimaces, and she remembers earlier. "Ugh, no toothbrush?" She sighs, feeling her tits practically pop over her top, and he's fucking magnetized to her, she knows it.

Mikey blinks slowly, stance widening as his dick shows itself. She sits with her knees splayed and rubs her belly distractedly, going lower, because she will get off _anyway_. He clamors on the bed and takes her wrist in hand, and presses his lips to it. Drags his mouth over the back of her hand, mouth her thumb, her palm, licks her knuckles. Takes her fingers in for a brief suck, and the tingling in her hand spreads over her arm, shoulder, raising goosebumps and hardening her nipples. Vicky sighs breathily, and Mikey sucks more.

He's looking drugged, but he's not drugged, maybe sickly-high while rubbing his mouth over her fingers, her fingers manipulating his mouth. He sucks, and the tingles reach all the way up to her scalp. Vicky pumps her fingers in and out, first the tips, then deeper, and he lets go of her wrist to brush along her sides. Her nipples are fucking tightening up too hard, making even her teeth fucking ache, unbearable, so she grabs his hands up from her side to her tits. Mikey gropes her generously, artfully, flicking her up and over and oh, yes.

"Keep doing that," she says, and slides off her panties one-handed, other hand busy in that too-hot mouth. Vicky straddles his thighs and he moves up against the headboard, messing up the crinkly, unused pillows. She'll fucking use them tonight, fuck yeah. She wants them to prop up Mikey's head and cushion her knees when she grabs the headboard and ride his face until she comes and comes and comes, his nose and cheeks all messy, his hot tongue strong beneath latex and her dripping all down his chin anyway, can almost feel it, and that makes her shiver.

She gropes the front of his pants, squeezes his dick underneath to break loose a moan, make him twist under her, and feels for his wallet. Mikey cocks his head, spits out her fingers, and says something unpleasant.

"No condoms? For fucking real? Loser," she grumbles. She keeps rubbing him, and his face closes down in concentration, he's biting his lip. She tosses her hair. "I can ask Gabe."

Mikey actually gives her a real look then. Wrinkles up his nose.

She stuffs her fingers back in. His eyelashes flutter, and he licks very wetly between the tips, then takes them all the way to the back of his throat, makes sloppy noises. Mikey's all dark-featured: make-up smears coloring him sickly under the eyes, ruddy smudges on his cheeks, and dewy with sweat, on top of a pale face and an obscene non-expression with her fingers dancing on his tongue. Just this. Just tongue, and human wetness, and sex noises, and getting sucked in.

Vicky makes a sound, and he laves her fingers in and out of her mouth, and her cunt clenches down on nothing, working up a lather. She tussles off her skirt and groans, body-deep, when she sinks two fingers inside herself with her free hand. She rubs her thumbnail beside her hood, teases out the bud of her clit, waiting until she can really get going, and feels it in the balls of her feet and knees and elbows whenever her thumbnail catches. She pouts her lips, rubs the pads of her fingers along his ridged palate. "C'mon, Mikey. Whaddaya got for me? Show me what ya got."

It turns out he's got a lot; he runs his hands ve-e-ery slowly under her halter, from the bottom up, not even helping her tits out of top from where she's already busting out. He takes his time pinching her nipples over her bra, and all her limbs stiffen up as she whines. Blood pulses and rushes all over her cunt, plumping her up and flaring at her clit. She whines and gets the good rhythm now she's turned out properly, press press and around and around, fingers sliding in and out so smoothly, burning up, and she feels like she's singed herself on a hot oil slick. It's so fucking _good_.

Mikey rolls the hem over her tits and releases the hooks in front of her bra, and she's so surprised -didn't even expect it, wasn't paying attention- that she arches and moans and quickens her fingers as he fills his hands up with her tits. He's got calluses, hard thumbs, and that's good too. Mikey's face is blurring out with pleasure and shiny spit, and Vicky gasps, open-mouthed, working herself rapidly and moaning as he touches her, so much wetness on her fingers playing with his tongue that there's almost no friction anymore.

All of a sudden she wants, wants so much she aches, horrible tight twinges and hungry for the feel of him between her legs. She wants to squeeze his skinny hips with her thighs and rub her cunt along the whole hot length of him. So she does it -pushes back the covers and gets tangled up, pulls her fingers out of his mouth with a pop. Mikey looks confused and still burning up, hot high spots on his cheeks marking him sick or high or _gone_ , somehow. Wet hands on the sheets, and she finally swings her leg over him, settles on top and rocks, and it sends a fleet of shudders through her with a groan; she's caught it as bad as him, now. Vicky squeezes his body and humps him greedily, grunts out her satisfaction as Mikey twists into a coil of want -knees spreading and bending to prop her over him, rocking against her, face creased in tension, tongue between his teeth.

She's feels like she's got it in her teeth and the roots of her fingernails, but it's not coming out of her; she can't get what she wants. She props her elbow above his shoulder instead and fights her fingers down between then, worms into herself again with a whine (yes, it's her, because Mikey's got a throaty, sexy burr stuck in his throat, so he's sounding rough and looking smeared-pretty. Pretty little thing. She whines again.) His belt is rubbing raw the insides on her thighs and that gets her off harder, sweet little pains clenching her legs around him, empty-gap ache of teasing herself against his hard-on, and Vicky flexes her fingers. She thumbs her clit hard, press press and around around, and Mikey's panting harder even though she's not roving so much over his dick anymore. He humps up and brushes the back of her hand, maybe, she's feeling a lot of things and the grey chafe of his skin is one of them; he's getting off anyway. Sick sick sick.

Vicky gasps in his ear and prickles towards coming, inch by inch, gasping for it again and again. Press press and around around, Mikey's slick face against her cheek and short, choked moans direct to her ear, best soundtrack ever -he sounds so much like _fucking_ , like the way a guy moans when he's screwed all the way in and so lost. It makes her so fucking horny; this guy doesn't even need to be fucking to get fucked by Vicky. She fucking clenches down on herself and whines, gushing at the thought, and stutters almost to the edge, almost there, mind a blur, not enough. She slides her thumb off her clit to above it, stretching the hood, and jams herself down on Mikey's jeans to rub punishingly on the rough inseam and rub hard on that hard fucking cock. Her face twitches violent and ugly and she comes yelling it out of her, wringing it out like the longest cramp ever or a spreading convulsion and it hurts and it fucking crawls out of her _skin_. Her skin is coming and sweating it out, burning out a fever through her guts and legs and snapped spine and shaking body.

She pulls off, finally hurting too much, slides back to sit on her haunches over him, awkward and moaning and rubbing out the aftershocks with her fingers. "Ah, ah, ah," she says, slick everywhere, and Mikey's got sweat down a V in the front of his shirt like a sick patient. He's working his belt open and catching his voice on the ends of his breath, asthmatic. Vicky "oooohs," touching herself, watches his eyes half-open under dark lids and watches him tug all over his swollen, sticky, fleshy bits.

Mikey's legs tense up and unsettle her, jerking erratically, tipping her onto the bed. She oofs into the mob of pillows, eels her way out to see his hitching chest and open-red mouth, hand an unsteady blur over dick. His moans have traveled further up his throat as he's gotten more desperate, whines near the top of his register now. Mikey's glassy-eyed unseeing and scratching his free hand over his belly, digging in, leaving no lines. Her cunt clenches again and she folds in on herself at the spasm, breathes it out, more hot shudders going sore. She could probably wait for him to work himself in a frenzy, wait until she could come again and then _make_ him do it, make him wait. She'd fucking come so hard watching him cry through it. She presses her thighs together, trembles.

Vicky reaches out her wet hands to roll over his nuts, rub and slide over the back of her nails, and Mikey bows up and chokes so suddenly she thinks he's cracked a rib. He cups a hand over hers and keeps going, streaks all over his chest. Pearl necklace, she thinks hysterically, he's got a black shirt on and everyone will see the nasty pretty thing she made. His hips undulate more and more weakly until Mikey's just huffing deeply and cradling her hands.

Eventually she gets up and takes her hands back while Mikey's sinking into the bed. She stretches and enjoys the echo in in her limbs, steals someone else's cigarettes in the nightstand, and smokes while hanging a foot off the bed. That was pretty good, but she still wants his mouth sometime. There's a promise of it in there somewhere, expressionless and from the earlier shrug of Mikey's shoulders in apology for no condoms.

Mikey's staring off into the distance, over the foot of the bed, unfocused gaze. She frowns. She sees how wet his eyes are, how skinny he is and how drenched his clothes are. He looks twice as far gone as he should, as if she actually did go two or three rounds on him. Vick thinks, Vicky _knows_ , that she's really not the one who'd fucked him over this time; he came in already fucked over, somehow. Not from the alcohol, maybe not even sex. She doesn't know how.

Vicky writes her number across his forearm and leaves her panties for him to find. She doesn't know, she saw him flushed and pale and rubbed raw, dick soft-pathetic crinkled on his thigh after, but she still wants to fuck him, to get to fuck him, to make him crack. It doesn't seem fair, if he got there already split apart and just let her come on him to fill in something else's gaps. Vicky doesn't do pity fucks, fill-in fucks, so she's a little pissed. She'll have a word with Gabe about him. It seems a shame to waste such a pretty thing if she can't be the one to screw him properly. She'll definitely speak to Gabe later.


End file.
